


i'll see him again

by cocchamscrew



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Gen, Not Canon Compliant, its really sad and i am so sorry, ngl i cried a bit writing this, the way i got attacked after i posted this on tumblr is still sending me LMAOO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25914463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocchamscrew/pseuds/cocchamscrew
Summary: basically, what if osferth had actually succumbed to his wounds in 3x06? (im really sorry in advance)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	i'll see him again

This battle had been a terrible one, but the tide had turned to the favour of Uhtred and his men. Osferth had grown slightly more experienced as a fighter since he had joined Uhtred, though with every blow he hoped it had not ended another man's life. Sihtric and Finan often had to remind him that none of the men on the other side thought the same as he did, that their aim was to kill whoever blocked their path, but Osferth was never able to shake the guilt he felt after each strike. 

He was fearful before every battle, perhaps slightly more than Sihtric and Finan, but he always felt reassured that they were fighting alongside him, always there to protect each other. Finan had warned him once to make sure he never ended up too far away from the others during battle.

"There's safety in numbers," he had said.

The warning crossed Osferth's mind continuously, as he became engaged in combat with a single Dane. The man was ferocious and clearly experienced, raining down blow after blow and it was all Osferth could do to keep holding his shield up, his arms weakening. He desperately looked around but there was no sight of either of his friends, while Uhtred was occupied in the distance. 

His hands momentarily loosened their hold on his shield and the Dane used that moment of hesitation to whack him again, catching Osferth off-guard before he was kicked to the ground. As he hit the dirt, his shield fell from his grasp, his movements slowing down as he weakly lifted his sword to defend himself. His head was pounding and he felt sick as he tried to focus his vision and get away from the Dane, but it was too late.

Osferth dimly watched as the Dane raised his sword and plunged it into his stomach, his eyes widening slightly at the sharp pain piercing his body, before pulling it out and leaving him to bleed out on the ground. 

Death had always scared Osferth, ever since he had been sent to the monastery as a child and repeatedly told he was going to hell for his status as a bastard. It had taken a long time for him to unlearn that, to regain a sense of self-worth, but when he did, he had become the happiest he had ever felt. 

Finding a family amongst Uhtred and his men had been the best thing that had ever happened to him, he thought with a little smile. Osferth had always wanted a chance to live the life of a warrior just as his uncle Leofric had done, and he would always be grateful for it.

He was beginning to slip in and out of consciousness as the blood left his body, and it took everything within him to stay awake. He heard Finan yelling his name in the distance, and a wave of relief washed over him - he wasn't alone.

"Finan?"

"Oh, dear God," the Irishman whispered, as he knelt down beside Osferth. There was blood everywhere, staining his robes and his hands, and Finan was trying desperately to stop the bleeding, yelling for Sihtric and Uhtred as he did so. The panic on his face scared Osferth more than anything. He had been wounded before, and every time Finan had managed to lighten the mood with a quick word and a laugh to comfort him, but this time was different.

"Am I to die, Finan?" he asked quietly.

Finan's head snapped up at the question, and it was then that Osferth saw the tears staining his dirty face. He had only seen Finan cry once before. It had been back when Osferth had only known the men for two or three months, when Finan had awoken from a nightmare about his time in the hands of the slavers, shaking and afraid. 

It had been Osferth who had stayed up to comfort him and talk to him for hours, before helping him go back to sleep. The next day, neither had spoken of it, but Finan had given him a smile of gratitude and a squeeze on the shoulder as he'd passed by. 

It had meant more to Osferth than Finan would ever know.

"Don't say that, baby monk," he said roughly, "don't think that."

At that moment, Sihtric came running over with Uhtred following close behind. Osferth tried to lift his head to look at them but found the effort was too exhausting.

"You're injured," Sihtric said quietly, kneeling down at once on Osferth's other side and quickly took over trying to stop the blood leaving his body, while Finan sat back, looking terrified. Osferth grimaced in pain as his strength ebbed away, and every breath he took shortened as everything became all too real for him. 

His fear grew the longer he watched Sihtric attempt to stop his bleeding. Eventually he managed to do it, but the dejected look on his face that was mirrored on the faces of Uhtred and Finan told Osferth the one thing he had wanted to know.

He was dying.

"Did you see me fight, Lord?" he asked weakly, and Uhtred smiled sadly.

"I did," he said, his voice hitching. "You were a warrior today, Osferth."

"I hope I killed no man," Osferth continued, and Uhtred chuckled in spite of the lump forming in his throat.

"You certainly gave many a very sore head," he reassured him, and Osferth smiled, though it was soon replaced by a sniffle.

"I don't want to go."

He heard Finan choke a sob and felt the tears roll down his own cheeks. He loved these men, the ones that had taken him in despite his status and his complete inexperience, and treated him with the love and respect he had yearned for for so long. And though he had known it might end this way, on the battlefield, he hadn't expected it to be so soon.

"I'm sorry," Finan wept, clasping Osferth's hand tightly. "I shouldn't have left you alone like that, I should've-"

"It wasn't your fault, Finan," Osferth whispered, "it was nobody's fault but that Dane… is he dead?"

"Yeah, I saw someone run him through on my way here. The bastard deserved it," Finan added savagely, wiping his tears. "God, Osferth, we've failed you, haven't we?"

"Don't say that," Osferth said desperately, mirroring Finan from earlier, "please. None of you failed me. I love you all so much, alright? Everything you've done for… for me, I remember it all."

Sihtric was in tears too as he wiped the blood and dirt from the side of Osferth's face. "I'll never forget you," he promised in a shaky voice. "None of us will."

Uhtred knelt down on his other side and took his free hand. "Leofric would have been proud of you, I am sure of it."

"I'll get to see him again, won't I?" Osferth said, smiling weakly. "And my mother. I've missed them so much."

"You will."

Uhtred felt the tears pooling in his eyes as he remembered Leofric. The heartbreak he had felt then seemed even worse now that Osferth lay there, growing weaker and weaker as every second passed. He did not have much time left, they all knew it. All of them wanted nothing more than for time itself to stop, so they would never have to watch their friend, their brother, leave them.

Osferth squeezed Uhtred's hand with some of the last remaining bits of strength he had. "Then I am not afraid anymore, Lord," he whispered, the pain proving to be too much if he tried raising his voice any louder. "And I thank God for the life I have lived."

Sihtric pushed his hair away from his eyes, keeping his hand on the side of Osferth's face. They all watched in despair as he smiled one last time at them, before he breathed his last and his hands fell from their grasp.

The news of his death reached King Alfred a week later. He ordered everyone to leave the chapel he had been praying at, before he fell to his knees at the altar and wept for his son, mourning the boy he had never managed to accept in his lifetime. 

At his funeral, Alfred stood from afar, watching over him one last time as he was buried. He watched his friends sob, and turned away, back to the palace, where nobody could see the moment his heart had shattered. 

Just as Uhtred and his men had, so Alfred also vowed to never forget Osferth, not until their dying days.

**Author's Note:**

> i promise ill post some fluff to make up for this JSHDJFHJ


End file.
